All the Bells and Whistles
by Aerophin
Summary: Cagalli, and the men that love her.


Uzumi takes her into his arms and she wakes, amber eyes slowly opening like flower petals peeling away at the sun's rays. She is so small, he thinks, and cradles the babe as gently as he can. Not a cry is uttered by the girl as he turns away from her aunt and uncle, another infant wrapped in the woman's arms. He takes his leave, tucking a photograph into his back pocket.

She is his tender ray of sunshine, bright and loud and vibrant against the cold, grimy landscape that is his life commandeered by politics. Teetering on her unstable one-year-old legs, she gives a deafening cry of hysterical joy as she lurches for his outstretched arms. He sweeps her up with ease, eyes crinkling at the corners as he beams at her, and throws her upward.

She is suspended in the air for mere seconds, her small mind not developed enough to realize it should be afraid, and by the time she has fallen back into her father's arms, she is more than safe, cradled by affection and secured with devotion. Laughing, she reaches her pudgy hands into his beard and tugs as he winces from the pain. But he merely smiles, and brings her face close for a kiss. Her eyes bore into his with curiosity, and he is hopelessly drowning in the beautiful depths of her clear, limitless amber orbs.

Later, when he and his colleagues are bathing in a cleansing fire of destruction, he pushes her away from himself with an unfamiliar ferocity and urgency. The door slams shut and he can see her tear-streaked face through the glass, eyes narrowed in confusion and mouth contorted as she cries out for him and bangs futilely against the locked door. And thus he sends her upwards while he stays behind, prepared to give his life for his country in a fiery explosion so that one day, even though he won't be there to catch her, when she comes down, his daughter will once again be safe.

* * *

The little demon scurries between Kisaka's legs, and he does his best to not topple over and crush her. She dashes away before he can stop her, and he wonders how the young girl could be so active this late. He is tired, and had hoped that when he was ordered to retrieve Representative Athha's daughter running wild in the parliament building it would be quick and easy. Chasing after wayward six-year-olds was not how he imagined military life to be when his father shipped him from his home in northern Africa to the tropical paradise of Orb for training and discipline, but he supposes he can learn something from this exercise.

He is struck with her strong will to escape him when he spots her at the top of a staircase about to make her escape. Suddenly a cat—_an animal in the parliament building_? he thinks, and wonders what else is running loose unpermitted that night—jumps from behind a banister and scares the girl. She pitches forward in fear, about to tumble down the stairs, but he is quick-thinking and swift, and snatches her before she takes a disastrous fall.

He admonishes her as he brings her back to her father in the main lobby. She clutches his uniform in her small hands and leans into his chest, silently brooding at being caught but thankful nonetheless.

And now, as he grabs her and jumps from the desert jeep moments before it's crushed beneath the paw of a BuCUE, he is thankful for that night when he first saved her, learning all he had needed to know about her in one single event. She is reckless and impulsive, a danger to herself because of her unbending resolve, but she is his princess and he will bring her back to Orb soundly, ZAFT be damned.

* * *

She is their Goddess of Victory, and Ahmed will follow her into the depths of hell if she asked.

Sahib hardly gives an explanation for the sudden appearance of a fair-skinned blonde girl traipsing along with the haggard men of Desert Dawn, and no one dares to question him. Ahmed makes it his mission to discover who she is, because no one just drops out of the sky to fight with a group of lowly resistance fighters.

She is hardly what he expected, but at his age, what did he really understand about girls? She laughs and works side-by-side with the rest of the men, and can easily hold her own when they ride out against the Desert Tiger. When she doesn't complain about showering only once every two weeks and angrily challenges him to a fist fight because _he keeps staring at her_, he smiles and thinks she isn't half bad.

They become fast friends, if only because there's no one else anywhere near his age. They are both young and brash, and fall in together as easily as if they'd known each other all their lives. Life in the resistance is hard, but when he catches her eye before they fall asleep underneath the stars, he forgets how to breathe for a moment because he realizes he's falling for his best friend.

Everyone calls her unrefined, she says, but he disagrees, because there is a soft grace to her frantic lobbing of a grenade, a certain elegance when she hoists a rocket launcher onto her shoulder. Her face is set hard with disgust towards the ZAFT vehicles they chase, but the narrowing of her eyes merely accentuate the determination so easily readable in her face, and he can't help but find her so entrancing in that moment.

When he lies on the desert floor with his body broken and reeling with pain, he lifts his head and sees her worried face looming over him. He tries to smile, but it hurts to move anything, and when he loses the last of his strength, his head rolls back, and he's so disappointed that he'll never be able to work that chunk of malachite into something beautiful enough to present to her.

* * *

The world is brighter now that Kira has his sister by his side.

War has given him a taste of sorrow and heartache, the images of the fallen comrades flashing through his dreams and illusions of faceless enemies falling at his feet. But the love he has found, and the family he has gained, has revitalized his broken spirit, and he thinks he is all the better for it.

She easily overfills the hole in his being he wasn't even aware of until she came crashing into his life. As she leans her head over onto his shoulder and gives a contented sigh, he can't help but be thankful that destiny, which tore them apart as many years ago, has decided to bring them together again.

She is everything he is not: bold and brash streaks of gold and crimson to his muted hues of gentle navy and lavender. She is loud, and her heart beats a booming rhythm many will march to; he is meek, and sound of his voice soothes the ache of loss and defeat. Boisterous and impulsive, she is not what he would have imagined a sibling would be like. But in her eyes he can see the same desire for peace he yearns for, and the need to protect her own is so clearly spoken in the same tone of voice he uses, he knows they are of the same blood and bone.

He turns to her and notices she has fallen asleep. Golden bangs cover her eyes, and he wonders how differently things would have turned out had they grown up together. Then he muses it doesn't really matter what could have been, since they have all of forever to be discover what it means to be a family.

Together, they fill in the gaps of the other's soul, and the twins make themselves whole again.

* * *

Athrun kisses her, and she tastes of hellfire and brimstone.

She is scorching passion embodied in womanly form, and he burns himself on the tips of her wandering hands and chapped lips. But he has drunk from her cup of life and thirsts for more of her spirit, a fiery liquid that both invigorates and debilitates his soul with desire.

Her eyes, once so deep with a fervor for life, seem shallower now, her oceans of amber strength dwindling to pools of dull yellow as she flips through pages of paperwork underneath the boughs of a willow tree. The parliament building looms in the background, a formidable reminder of her own choice to clip her lioness paws and muffle her roars.

Cowering behind a nearby pillar, he watches as she gracefully signs her name to a page before setting it aside, and he is suddenly reminded of gentle hands that bandaged his wounded torso when he was still an enemy. It is fitting, he thinks, that it was the torture of war that brought them together and the pain of conflict that tore them apart. He has long ago forsaken the red uniform of his homeland, but the blue and white livery that is his dress nowadays does nothing to lessen the distance between them.

He watches her from the sidelines, because it seems that it's all he can do lately, crumbling beneath the weight of her presence so near yet knowing he'll shatter if he deserts his post in her shadow. She stands alone on her political platform, proud and resolute, and he wonders if he can make her eyes spark again. They dance around each other, carefully choosing their words and sidestepping the mines that litter their broken relationship.

One night he can't stand it anymore, and shoves her against the wall of her office, his hands running through her hair and his mouth crushing hers. She pushes him away from her, but her efforts are weak attempts at lying to herself that she doesn't need him, and he kisses her again, letting her taste the remnants of her fire she left on his lips, and she gives in.

And his gentle touch teaches her how to soar again, and she's breathing in the passion of his love that she gave him, and it reminds her how to set the smoldering embers of her heart ablaze once more.

* * *

**Author Note:** Cagalli remains my favorite character, despite the direction her personality took in Destiny. While it's been some time since I've actually seen Destiny, I feel as if she comes out of the Second War less rash and more mature, which should have been expanded on. Alas, GSD leaves much to be desired, but my headcanon is that Cagalli only grows stronger because of her actions during the war.

I've been itching to do a good AsuCaga piece lately ever since _War for Two_ was released on YouTube for the GS Remaster. Anyone else watching that? Not much was changed at all, but I'm such a hardcore shipper it still made me giddy. And I realize this isn't strictly an AsuCaga story, but it's there in spades where it is, so enjoy.

I'm asking for good criticism of this piece. I feel as if the Kira portion was the weakest, and it seems like the Athrun part lacked direction and coherence. Did Ahmed's seem plausible? Please review, and thanks for reading.


End file.
